


I'm Just Your Problem

by fairietailed



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, bc this is basically that, demon!Lance, is there such a thing as a Welcome to Hell AU?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairietailed/pseuds/fairietailed
Summary: “Alright,” Lance says, standing and stretching his arms over his head. He pulls Keith’s file off of the table, rolling it and stuffing it into his back pocket. He tugs his beanie a bit lower, feeding his horns through the holes cut into the top. “I got this. Give me like a month.”“Time doesn’t matter to us, Lance,” Pidge says dully, though the corners of her lips turn up at the edges. “You literally just have to make sure this guy offs himself before he dies naturally.”“Like I said,” Lance insists, pointing at Pidge determinedly. “A month.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING NOW: This entire AU revolves around the fact that Lance is a demon, and spends literally every day attempting to motivate Keith to kill himself. (Naturally this doesn't end the way either of them expects.)
> 
> There will be suicide mentions, death mentions, and abuse mentions throughout this fic.

“Keith Kogane?”

Lance closes the Tag file, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. He stares across the desk at Pidge, who pushes her glasses up her nose as she nods.

“Case number 3419487, yes.”

“And I’m supposed to...?” He lets the question taper off, and Pidge sighs. She rests her elbows on the table, rubbing at her temples as if heavily exhausted.

“Just  _ haunt _ him,” she says. “The guy’s been through 7 demons this year alone. The boss wants him dead, but he seems  _ really _ un-killable from our end.”

“The boss?” Lance asks, eyebrow raised. “This kid’s on the boss’s radar?”

“And every other demon within a million mile radius,” Pidge says, her eyes practically rolling into the back of her head. Lance would find it funny if he weren’t sympathetic to just how hard Pidge works to match demons and their Tags. She sighs, dropping her right arm onto the desk and motioning in Lance’s general direction with her left. “You’re the only one left.”

“The only one,” Lance repeats, skeptical. Pidge sighs again, clearly not in the mood to expand.

“Just-” she says, and Lance fights back a laugh, “You’re the only one left that remotely matches criteria. No one else will take it. Plus, you can’t really refuse.”

“Why not?”

“Because you fucked up the last 2 Tags,” Pidge says bluntly, and Lance winces slightly. “Boss says 3 strikes and you’re out.”

“Look, those weren’t my fault and you know it-”

“Point is they ended up living long and healthy lives, yeah?” Pidge doesn’t bother looking at him as she waves the files forward, flipping them open in front of her like a set of dual-monitors. “Rolo and Nyma, right? Neither of them died, and in fact, found  _ each other _ .” She snorts, waving the files away and shaking her head. “You got one more chance, dude. Otherwise the boss is gonna put you on filing duty at  _ best _ .”

Lance winces again, leaning sideways in his chair to catch a glimpse of the file cabinets behind Pidge, stretching backward into the room as far as Lance could see, and then some.

Filing Duty was  _ not _ the business.

Nor is the other, significantly more “end-of-Lance’s-non-life” option, either.

“Alright,” Lance says, standing and stretching his arms over his head. He pulls Keith’s file off of the table, rolling it and stuffing it into his back pocket. He tugs his beanie a bit lower, feeding his horns through the holes cut into the top. “I got this. Give me like a month.”

“Time doesn’t matter to us, Lance,” Pidge says dully, though the corners of her lips turn up at the edges. “You literally just have to make sure this guy offs himself before he dies naturally.”

“Like I said,” Lance insists, pointing at Pidge determinedly. “A month.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days 1 and 2

He spends the first day watching.

Keith Kogane, as it turns out, is a high school sophomore living with his foster parents in some suburban home an hour out from Boston.

Lance decides he hates this Tag the minute he ends up topside.

The air around him bites at his ears, sending shivers through his horns and his tail and settling in his bones. His right ear twitches with annoyance at the cold, and he tugs his beanie down a bit more.The points of his ears disappear beneath the brim. He’s always hated autumn; Purgatory was much nicer this time of year.

Once he reaches Keith’s school he blends in, weaving between students in the cafeteria in his attempt to find Keith. He snatches someone’s bag of chips as he passes, opening them as he sits at the table behind Keith.

Lance hangs back, getting a feel for him. Nearly skinnier than he is with a mullet and a tongue piercing, the guy basically looks like the manager of a Hot Topic.

( _ Like you’re any better, _ Pidge had said when Lance pointed that fact out while looking through his file.  _ Last I checked, the only thing keeping you from working at one yourself is the fact that we don’t have any down here in the first place. _ )

Throughout the day he watches from a distance. The guy’s a loner, spending most of his time in class or the library or in his room with his music turned up, and he always looks miserable no matter what kind of excitement goes on around him.

_ Cake _ , he tells himself later that afternoon as he watches Keith from across the library.  _ This should be cake. _

* * *

He makes contact on the second day.

Keith is in the library again, tucked in the back corner of the building where it’s hardest to be seen. The table he sits at is empty besides himself when Lance pulls out a chair at the table across from him. The legs cry out in protest as Lance drags them across the tiled floor slowly, and Keith looks up to catch his eye in a bored expression as he sits.

“You don’t care if I sit here, right?” Lance asks.

“You’re going to sit there anyway,  _ right _ ?” Keith asks in return, and Lance fights off a smirk.

“Yeah,” he says instead, and Keith hums, looking back down at the open book in front of him.

Lance lets his legs spread beneath the table as he slides down in his chair, resting an arm on the back of the seat and letting his other hand rest on the table, fingers drumming along the surface. He stares at Keith, sizing him up, deciding how best to approach the situation.

Keith decides for him.

“You’re number eight, aren’t you?”

The question takes Lance by surprise, though he only allows an eyebrow to raise in question as a slight giveaway.

“What was that?”

“I said,” Keith sighs, closing the book and looking at Lance, arms folded, “you’re number eight.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he feigns innocence, and Keith lets out a huff of air that Lance assumes is a laugh.

“Okay, that’s fine.” He stands, stuffing the book and his papers into his messenger bag before slinging it over his shoulder. “Just know that you’re not gonna win, here. The others have tried practically everything and nothing really worked, so.”

Lance pushes himself back from the table, hovering out of the chair and putting his hands in his pockets. He straightens out, moving from a half-float to a stride behind Keith seamlessly. “That’s because they weren’t me.”

“And who  _ are _ you?” Keith asks. Lance scoffs, leaning forward to get a better look at Keith’s face.

“Uh, the name’s Lance, kid,” he says. Keith hums again. “And I’ll be the one that pushes you toward the cliff you’ll end up walking off of.”

“That’s great,” Keith says, “that you think that’ll happen. Give yourself a goal, you know? Really work for it.” He makes a pair of finger guns, shooting them off into the distance. His straight face never breaks, and his tone never wavers. Lance grins, and he can practically feel his tail twitching with anticipation.

“Oh, I can see why you’re on the radar. I like you. This’ll be fun.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3

“Just end it, dude.”

Keith snorts as he pulls on the headphones around his neck, sticking one bud into his ear and giving Lance a sideways glance.

“That was the most half-assed effort I’ve ever seen.”

“Well it’s not like the others’ efforts worked very well, right?” Lance asks, floating on his back alongside Keith. His tail twitches back and forth, hitting Keith’s arm.

“That’s a good point,” Keith agrees, batting at Lance’s tail. He swings it up to smack Keith’s nose in retaliation. “I guess you could just annoy me to death.”

“Well from what I hear, kid, you’re unscareable,” Lance says. He crosses his arms in the air behind his head, his tail avoiding Keith’s waving hand and poking at different points on his face instead.

“Is that so?” Lance doesn’t miss the slight pull of the corner of Keith’s mouth.

“It is~” he sing-songs, kicking his legs back and forth. “Pidge said you got through 7 different demons, yeah? So what makes this tiny Tag so expensive?”

Keith hums. “I’m not scared by much anymore.”

Lance hums, too, running his tongue along the points of his teeth. Keith tugs on his messenger bag strap.

“I’m not a kid, either, you know.”

He rolls one of his earbuds back and forth between his fingers as Lance swims through the air a bit more, flipping his torso so he can get a better look at Keith.

“You’re like, 12.”

“I’m 16, thanks,” Keith snaps. “You don’t look much older, you know.”

Lance scoffs. “Yeah, okay kiddo. I’m 341 years old. So yeah, you’re like... 12.”

One of Keith’s eyebrows raise as they round a corner. “341, huh?”

“1692 was a wild ride,” Lance shrugs, miming a backstroke as he swims around Keith’s torso. Keith only huffs out a laugh, stuffing his earbuds in his ears and remaining silent the rest of the walk.

Keith’s house sits on the far end of a cul-de-sac in the middle of the suburbs. Two stories with a front porch, surrounded by a white picket fence and a tree with a front porch swing, it looks like something straight out of a Sears catalogue.

Keith unhooks his keys from his belt loop, unlocking the door and making his way inside. He doesn’t bother closing the door, expecting Lance to follow. When he doesn’t, though, Keith turns around.

“What are you doing?”

Lance stands in the doorway, hands still in his pockets. “I can’t come in unless you invite me.”

Keith makes a face, a mix of confusion and annoyance. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I can’t come in. You know, cross the threshold.” Lance waves at the imaginary line between the porch and the front door. “I must be invited.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Keith says, and actually laughs. “That’s vampires. You’re just a low-level demon.”

“Low level?” Lance scoffs. “I’ll have you know that just within the next few months I’m set up to get my wings.”

“Then you should know that you can ‘cross the threshold’ with no problem,” Keith says, rolling his eyes. “Just go wherever you want.”

Lance grins, all metal and sharp edges, and he floats through the doorframe, ending up half an inch from Keith’s face. Their noses nearly brush, and Lance looks at Keith with half-lidded eyes.

“Thanks. I plan to.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5

“You sure are taking your time,” Keith says. Lance looks up from his phone as he lays on the edge of Keith’s bed, his head hanging upside down and his legs stretched upward, heels resting on the wall.

“Well it’s not like I have to hurry or anything, right?” He asks, and the upside-down Keith shrugs. Lance raises an eyebrow. “Do you have something better to do?”

“Literally anything else,” Keith says, spinning his desk chair in circles slowly. “I don’t need a demon following me around for the rest of my life, you know.”

“Then just kill yourself,” Lance deadpans, and Keith laughs. Lance doesn’t think he’ll ever understand it, the way that Keith literally laughs in the face of a demon (or eight, apparently, considering there were seven before him).

“As great as that’d be,” Keith says sarcastically, “I’m gonna have to pass. You’ll probably end up leaving like the others anyway.”

Lance frowns. “It’s only been 5 days, dude. What makes you think I’m gonna be so easy to run off?”

“The last one took me 4 days,” Keith shrugs. “The one before that only 2 weeks.”

Lance snorts. “What the hell are you doing, then, that runs all these demons off like that?”

Keith hums. “They get bored, mostly. Others have said something about not wanting to fail their assignment, and I’m pretty much a guaranteed fail? Whatever that means. The last one just... Didn’t like the situation. Figured she’d drop it on the next guy that came along.”

“What situation?” Lance asks, suddenly skeptical. Pidge hadn’t said anything about a situation -- if there was something he needed to worry about, he deserved the right to know. Keith scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It’s, ah... It’s complicated,” he says, and Lance frowns.

“I’m a demon, Keith. A literal demon that’s sent here to make you kill yourself. I don’t think things can get much more complicated than that.”

Keith shrugs again. “She just said something about technicalities and left, is all. It’s not like I really bothered to try and keep her around.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Lance says, though his eyes narrow a bit. “Was she the only one to leave because of it?”

“Nah.” Keith sticks his foot out to stop his chair from spinning, catching his toes on the corner of his desk. “There were I think 2 others who left because of it.”

“Are you ever gonna tell me what it is that we’re talking about?” Lance asks.

“You’ll probably figure it out.”

It’s the only answer he gets as Keith turns back to his homework on his desk behind him. Lance frowns, shooting off a quick text of inquiry to Pidge before going back to his Purgatory Twitter feed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 11

A week into his assignment, and Lance can see why the others have quit.

In his 323 years as a demon, Lance has never encountered someone quite so.... Difficult.

Yes, he’s had his slip ups. What good-natured demon hasn’t --  _ he will fight tooth and nail to say that Rolo and Nyma were not his fault, thank you very much _ \-- but he’s never had anyone flat out  _ deny _ him like this.

“I try and bug you, you’re unaffected. I insult you, you’re unaffected. I have you talking to yourself in class and now people think you’re crazy, you’re unaffected.” Lance counts off his attempts on his fingers, floating backwards at Keith’s side. “You have no friends, you barely talk to your family, and you never do anything but lay sadly around your room all day.” He frowns, forgetting his counting and throwing his arms up in the air. “And I doubt you go out at night or on weekends! It’s not like I get notified.”

“Notified?” Keith asks, though he sounds slightly exasperated.

“What,” Lance asks, “do you think I spend  _ all _ my time stalking you? That’s a bit self-centered.” He snorts, and Keith shoots him a scowl. “I get nights and weekends off, ya dingus. I just keep tabs on you from my phone. BUt I never get any pings telling me you’re out, so I assume you spend the whole night wallowing in emo self-pity in bed alone.”

“You’re kind of mean,” Keith says, and Lance snorts again.

“I’m a demon, dude,” he says as Keith unlocks the door to his house. “It’s what I  _ do _ .”

Keith shrugs. “I’m just saying. I bet you don’t have many demon friends, with that attitude.”

Lance lets out a squawk, dropping from the air and hopping up the stairs behind Keith. “I have tons of friends!”

“Name one.”

“Pidge!” Lance cries almost immediately. Keith snorts.

“Pidge? That’s their real name?”

“She’s in charge of assigning Tags,” Lance says. “She’s pretty cool. She’s crazy smart, even though she’s kind of bossy sometimes.”

“And she’s your only friend?” Keith asks. Lance hums as they enter Keith’s room, and he makes his way to flop down on the bed in the corner.

“Well you don’t have many friends when you’re a demon,” he says. “Most of your time is spent with your Tags.” He lifts his head, looking at Keith. “Timezones, ya know?”

“Like, all over the world?”

“There’s a lot of people out there, dude.” Lance shrugs, letting his head fall back onto the mattress. “Like right now, my friend Hunk is in Russia. And Allura is in Australia.”

Keith settles into his desk chair, pulling a knee up to his chest. “Do you guys just automatically know the foreign languages?”

“It just kind of comes to us while we’re there,” Lance says. “Like, we just  _ know _ . Dunno how it’s done, never bothered to ask.”

“Where are you from originally, then?” Keith asks.

“Salem,” Lance answers after a pause. “Oregon.”

“Here in America?” Keith frowns a bit, and Lance rolls his eyes at the ceiling.

“No, in fucking Mexico.”

“Shut up.”

“Then don’t be stupid,” Lance says. Keith’s frown deepens.

“I’m not stupid,” he snaps. “I just thought that would be awfully convenient for you to be so close.”

“It’s on the other side of the country,” Lance laughs.

Keith clicks his tongue. “Whatever, dude. The point is not to rag on me for not having friends when you clearly don’t have any either.”

“I just named three!” Lance sits up on the bed, crossing his legs. “Pidge, Hunk and Allura! You, meanwhile, haven’t even named on-”

“Shiro.”

Lance pauses, looking up at Keith. “What was that?”

“Shiro,” Keith says, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. “Shiro is my friend.”

“Who the hell is Shiro?” Lance asks. Keith spins his computer chair back toward his desk, rather than answer. Lance frowns. “Fine! Don’t tell me who this ‘Shiro’ guy is. I’ll figure it out myself.”

Keith remains silent, and Lance heads back Under to ask Pidge for a favor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 15

Keith snaps at a classmate on a Thursday.

They’re in the cafeteria, sitting at the furthest corner of the room. Keith curls up into the corner almost naturally, holding his right knee to his chest as his left sticks out in front of him. He watches students walk by with Lance, listening to the invisible boy’s commentary as they pass.

“That girl’s skirt is cute,” Lance says as he peels an apple beside Keith. The switchblade he uses glows with a faint blue hue, and Keith watches it skeptically. Lance points the blade in the girl’s direction, and Keith’s eyes follow. “I’d like that for myself.”

Keith hums. “It’d make floating harder, you know. People would be able to see everything.”

“Not if I get a pair of spandex shorts to go underneath it.”

“Then buy one.” Keith shrugs. Lance sighs dramatically.

“I caaaan’t,” he whines, sliding down the wall a bit and letting his legs splay out in front of him. “We don’t have any good shops in Purgatory, and it’s not like I have  _ your _ money to buy something  _ here _ .”

Keith laughs, though it’s more of a huff of air than anything. “Then take one,” he says, and Lance’s ears twitch with humor. “It’s not like any of the employees will be able to see you, right? Aren’t I the only one who can?”

“That’s true,” Lance says, and he smirks at Keith’s suggestion. “You wouldn’t mind? Me breaking the rules like that?”

“Why would I ever care about that?” Keith asks, and Lance can hear the amusement in his voice. “You are A, a demon, and B, it has literally nothing to do with me. Do whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“I’m wounded,” Lance scoffs, placing a hand over his chest. “I can’t believe you think that little of me that you wouldn’t even  _ try _ to stop me from ruining my future. What if I went to  _ prison _ ?”

“Then I’m sure your mother would just be  _ devastated _ ,” Keith sighs, rolling his eyes. “And I’d lose so much sleep worrying over your safety in those tiny little cells with no mirrors to check your makeup in.”

“Hey,” Lance says,pausing in peeling his apple to point the blade at Keith, “these wings take work.” He flips the knife to the tip of the blade touches the skin beneath his eyeliner. “It’s not like they just appear.”

“I’ve never even seen you draw them on, though.”

“Because I only do my makeup when I have time in the morning before work,” Lance says. “If your school started like an hour later, then I would probably do it more often.”

“So you literally oversleep every morning before you end up at my bus stop waiting for me?”

“Pretty much.”

Keith laughs,  _ actually _ laughs, and it’s loud enough that some of the people passing by hear. One guy stops, sneering in Keith’s direction.

“Are you talking to yourself again, Kogane?”

Lance cuts out a chunk of his apple, using his knife as a utensil. He looks between Keith and the guy towering over him with interest. Keith, however, doesn’t seem interested in arguing.

“Nah,” he says, pulling out another chip from his bag and popping it into his mouth with a loud crunch. “It was your mom. She says hi, by the way. And to pick up milk on the way home tonight.”

The guy’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. Lance lets out a laugh.

“Fuck you, freak,” he says, and Keith raises an eyebrow at the nickname. “At least I  _ have _ a mom.”

Lance snorts at the same time Keith laughs. “Yeah,” he says, digging into the corner of the bag for the last bits of his chips, “I’ve never heard that one before. You wound me, buddy, you really do.”

“You’re a fucking loser,” the guy says, and Keith rolls his eyes. “I bet that’s why Shirogane ran away a few years ago, huh? Couldn’t stand being within a hundred miles of you, fuckface.”

Keith is up in an instant, empty bag of chips forgotten. He stands at his full height, shoulders back, nose nearly touching his opponent’s. His fists are balled at his side, though Lance can see him restraining himself from grabbing the other guy’s jacket collar. His eyes have a spark that Lance hasn’t seen since he made it topside, and his presence is so strong that it has even his opponent shrinking back a few inches.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Keith says slowly, scooting forward half an inch. “You’re treading through very dangerous waters.”

Lance lets out a low whistle.

“Careful, Mullet,” he says, cutting out another chunk of his apple. “If this guy kills you, I’ll be out a job.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Keith says, and Lance isn’t sure who the sentence is directed to.

The guy in front of Keith nods, hands moving upward in a surrendering motion. “Okay,” he says, “okay, okay. You got me, Kogane. I won’t fuck with Shirogane.” He takes another step back, straightening his jacket and spinning on his heel. He walks a bit faster as he and his girlfriend move toward the cafeteria exit, and Lance laughs as he watches them leave.

“What a bitch,” he says, watching all of the fight drain from Keith within seconds of his opponent disappearing. “He didn’t even call your bluff.”

“Because it wasn’t one.” Keith falls back into the spot he was in before, curled up in the corner. “He knows it. Everyone here does.”

“Ah, you got a rep then?” Lance sings. He finishes his apple, stabbing his blade into the core. He lets it float out of his hand, and he spins it in circles in the air in front of him. “But I thought you didn’t care about anything.”

“I don’t,” Keith says, but it sounds like a lie.

“Unless it’s Shiro,” Lance says, and the look on Keith’s face screams truth.

Keith pulls out his mp3 and headphones, and Lance hums to himself, propping his elbow up on his knee and dropping his chin into his upturned palm.

“Thought so. Hey Keith,” he says, and the other boy looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Kill yourself, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” Keith replies, and promptly cuts off Lance’s laughter as he puts his earbuds in his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on the short film Welcome to Hell by Erica Wester. It can be found on Youtube and I highly suggest watching it, because it is amazing.
> 
> Come yell with me about this AU and any other AU on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fairietailed) and [Tumblr!](http://fairietailed.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ALSO look at this AMAZING ART of demon!Lance by [Mark!!!!](https://twitter.com/Sarcasticbirb/status/792970572690972672)


End file.
